


About Time

by myfatherwillhearofthis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Autumn, Boys Kissing, Enemies to Lovers, First Kiss, Hogwarts Fifth Year, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, POV Harry Potter, Potions Class (Harry Potter), Redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:54:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23576512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myfatherwillhearofthis/pseuds/myfatherwillhearofthis
Summary: There's some feelings for Draco that Harry can't quite place until a paired potions class with him sets things straight (well, quite the opposite really.)
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 14
Kudos: 150





	About Time

It was a fairly normal morning in the Gryffindor common room for Harry until someone had called for him.

“H-Harry?"

It was Ginny.

Harry whipped around. She looked nervous, twirling her red hair distractedly around her finger and her gaze fixed at the ground — odd for Ginny, who always seemed to keep fierce eye contact when she talked to Harry.

“Hi, Ginny.” Harry felt himself grin. It was always good to talk to his best friend’s sister. Ginny continued to stare at the ground, looking a little flushed. Something seemed off, this shy, quiet persona of Ginny’s a stark comparison to her lively, assertive nature.

“Erm.. are you going to say something?” Harry continued. He was beginning to worry. Was something wrong?

“Oh! I was just wondering… could I talk to you a bit later? I-In private, I mean,” asked Ginny, eyeing Ron and Hermione fighting over a game of wizard’s chess beside the fireplace. She coughed, straightening and finally meeting his gaze but with unfocused, watery brown eyes. Harry was taken aback.

“Of course, whatever you need,” he replied, “How about you meet me at the Astronomy tower after curfew? We can sneak past Filch with the cloak.”

Ginny smiled for the first time in the conversation, brightening considerably. “That would be good! Thanks Harry.” And she was gone before Harry could ask if she was alright.

 _What was that?_ Harry thought. _I hope she’s ok._ He joined Ron and Hermione by the embers of the fire, still in their nightgowns — Harry had already gotten dressed in preparation for breakfast and today’s classes, having gotten up early to complete his Potions assignment.

“Checkmate!” Ron announced proudly, grinning as Hermione’s King glared at his rook and turned around to squabble at her. Hermione’s eyes flickered determinedly across the board, checking for any possible moves.

“Oh, c’mon Hermione,” Ron groaned, elbowing Harry as he sat down beside him — Hermione was still scanning, ignoring the protests of her pieces as she insisted they sit still. She gave up with a huff as they eventually ignored her and moved off the board.

“Oh, hello Harry,” Hermione acknowledged as she looked up — albeit a little sulkily. She quickly noticed his attire and gasped.

“Oh! Ron, we have breakfast now! We need to get changed right away.” Standing up, she complained as she walked off, “Why did you convince me into playing this ridiculous game?”

“Bloody hell,” Ron sighed, but he shared a grin with Harry. “Sore loser, that one is.” He scrambled up. “Better get changed before she hexes my nose off or something,” he joked. “See you at breakfast, Harry!”

-

Harry drummed his fingers on his goblet of pumpkin juice, thinking about what Ginny had asked earlier. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t think of anything she’d possibly need to ask him in private like that. He bit back a yawn, tired from his early wake. He stole a glance at Ginny, chatting loudly with her friends. What had caused her to squirm around him?

“ _Potter!_ ” spat a voice behind him.

Harry bit back a groan of annoyance — he could recognise that snarky, posh voice from anywhere. He ignored it, unable to hold back rolling his eyes.

“Where’s Granger and _Weasley?_ Decided to play hero without them, Potter?” Malfoy drawled, his minions Crabbe and Goyle chortling stupidly in echo. Harry was already tired enough without Malfoy having to poke at him first thing during the day, but he felt familiar anger ball up in the pit of his stomach. He turned around, narrowing his eyes at Malfoy’s stupid, smug face. He wanted to punch it.

“They’re not Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy,” Harry retorted, “I don’t require Hermione and Ron to be in my company every hour of the day. My _friends_ are human, and therefore entitled to freedom. I don’t treat them like _minion_ s.”

He smirked as the Slytherin’s face fell from smugness to bemusement, a familiar fiery satisfaction heightening his tight stomach. His stomach lurched delightfully as Draco sneered distastefully at him, ears turning red under his blonde locks. He watched him turn sulkily back to his table.

“Hey Harry! We’re here now- Oh.”

Harry whipped his head around to face Ron as he sat down, feeling his upturned cheeks slacken quickly. He felt strangely guilty, but he couldn’t grasp why. There was an odd look in Hermione’s eyes as she sat down, watching him.

“Blimey, was that Malfoy, Harry?” continued Ron as he reached for the pumpkin juice, seemingly unaware of Harry’s strange behaviour. “Still being an uptight prick to you, isn’t he? Doesn’t know how to leave you alone. Bloody hell.”

“Erm, yeah,” Harry muttered, busying himself with his pancakes and bacon. What was wrong with him today? He tried to change the subject as unobviously as possible. “What have we got on today, Hermione?”

“History of Magic,” she started carefully, ignoring Ron’s groan. “Charms, Herbology, Transfiguration. We have a double Potions class with Snape at the end of the day.”

“ _Honestly_ , as if we couldn’t get enough of Malfoy already,” complained Ron, which ironically voiced Harry’s thoughts exactly.

“You alright, Harry? You look… pale,” said Hermione.

“Brilliant,” Harry replied, but it came out flat. He watched in surprise at Ron’s grin fall too.

“You sure, mate? You’ve been a bit off at breakfast today.”

“It’s just the Potions homework I woke up early to finish,” Harry attempted, realising that was probably it. “Just tired.”

The answer appeared almost satisfactory to his friends when he realised something else.

“Oh! And uh.. Ginny asked to speak to me in private today. I dunno why.”

Ron looked incredulous. “My sister? Whatever about?”

“Honestly Ron,” Hermione sighed exasperatedly, rolling her eyes. She looked at Harry with a carefulness that looked almost prepared. “Isn’t it obvious? She _likes_ you.”

Harry froze with shock, mouth agape. Was it true? He hadn’t ever thought of her that way. Did she really like him like _that?_

At the thought, an image of Draco appeared in his head, sneering down on him as he always did. “Bewitch a Weasley into becoming your girlfriend, have you, Potter?” fake Malfoy taunted. “The nerve. Saint Potter, thinking that—” Harry shook the voice from his head before it could continue. What an odd thought.

“That’s so crazy,” he heard Ron exclaim to Hermione. “Totally weird. She’s my sister! Did you know?”

“It’s not weird. Honestly, it’s really obvious, Ron. Does it matter if I’ve been told anything? Harry? What do you think?”

“Erm,” thought Harry aloud, “I’ve never really thought about her like that...?”

There was a sigh of relief from Ron that helped his chest relax.

“Would you consider giving her a chance?” Hermione asked.

“I guess so? ...I dunno,” replied Harry lamely. It felt all weird to him. He had only been with Cho once, but he hadn’t felt that way toward any other girls since. Something hazy in the back of his mind protested, but he couldn’t figure why.

The trio completed their breakfast in silence.

-

Harry, Hermione and Ron filed into the Potions dungeon, flanked by their fellow Gryffindors. It had been a long, tiring day for Harry; he wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

He’d distracted himself from that peculiar thought of Malfoy in classes with a strange focus he didn’t realise he had. He remembered the astonishment on Hermione’s face beside him when he managed to transfigure his pumpkin into a rabbit before she could.

Harry reached for his assignment, ducking to avoid Snape’s intense glare as his work was snatched from him.

He hadn’t looked up until he brushed shoulders with someone.

“Watch where you’re going, Potter,” Draco sneered unpleasantly, shoving him lightly. Harry tensed up, his cheeks flaring. He could smell Draco’s sharp, minty intoxicant lingering in the air gingerly as he paused for a response, but Harry moved to his desk in silence. It wasn’t the tiredness, but the recurring thought of Draco throughout the day that had caused him to weird out around him.

Funnily enough, it hadn’t been the first time this had happened either. Harry could pinpoint days, moments, where he had been put in a strange daze by the Slytherin over the tiniest things — their petty arguments, the smirk on Draco’s face every time he caught Harry getting scolded, the glares they passed each other in class; Draco sneering, arms crossed, legs folded.

It annoyed him greatly, a grand, bristling sensation that made Harry’s hair stand on end at the thought of Malfoy’s perfect, pale lips curled in contempt.

“I will begin by reminding the Gryffindor students that potion instructions must be read correctly, and followed carefully,” droned Snape as he began the class. Harry yawned, resting his head on the desk as Snape proceeded to list all the rules, one by one.

“...I do not tolerate students blowing up their concoctions and wasting the school’s potion supplies.” There was a delicate pause. “Am I clear, Mr. Finnigan?”

A collective snicker went around aimed at Seamus, who grinned guilty.

“I don’t tolerate sleeping in class either, Mr. Potter,” Snape called out coldly, catching Harry slacking off.

Shame burning red in his face, Harry lifted his head in time to see Draco’s cold snigger, a mirthless smirk etched on his face. Suddenly, they had locked eyes, silver and green. Harry moved his head away quickly, feeling embarrassed— annoyed. He couldn’t stand Draco mocking him any longer. He fought the urge to take out his wand and hex him good, or more like it, have a proper fight with him, wands discarded. He wanted to rip off Malfoy’s perfect prefect badge and watch his lip curl.

“To reinforce my earlier statement, I will be pairing up one Slytherin and one Gryffindor each for today’s tasks—” Snape continued, and Harry’s heart dropped. “—to create the love potion that we studied in our previous session.” There were always tens of other Slytherins to be paired with, but Snape had always made sure Harry was to be with Malfoy.

He listened in dread as the Potions professor began to list the pairings, watching students from both parties scowl or glare as they made their way toward each other. Harry avoided Draco until Snape had listed every pair except… surprise, him and Malfoy. Brilliant.

He ran a hand through his tangled, black hair distractedly as he approached Malfoy, avoiding his gaze.

“What’s the matter, _Potter?_ ” Draco drawled smugly, clearly basking in Harry’s flustered state. “Worried you’re going to stuff up in front of a Slytherin?” he smiled contemptuously. “It’s _only_ a love potion. Then again, that must still be difficult for you.” Harry was trying his best to keep quiet until Draco continued.

“Oh, don’t worry, I make sure to lower my expectations when it comes to _you_.”

Harry tried to bite back a retort, but to no avail, he had to retaliate. “I’m actually not worried at all,” he replied, returning the smile blandly, “just concerned that if you’re so obsessed with me, you’d actually let a _Gryffindor_ do all the work.” He felt that hot satisfaction rise in his gut as Draco faltered at his words.

“Found your voice, have you?” remarked Draco, folding his arms. He had been taunting Harry throughout the day — as he always did — but Harry had been determined to ignore him; until now. Harry found himself smirking at Draco.

“Yeah, didn’t realise you cared that much.” He was surprised to see Draco return the grin in a much more startling, genuine way, but any trace of it vanished in a second as Snape loomed over the two.

“Why aren’t you at your station?” His gaze flickered to Malfoy. “Draco. Don’t make me regret partnering you with Mr. Potter.”

Draco’s eyes widened, sending a glare towards Harry. Any previous warmth was obviously now nonexistent. “Sorry, sir,” Draco apologised. “I’ll make sure Potter learns how to _not_ blow up the dungeon this time.”

It was a thorn in Harry’s pride, a reference Malfoy had made to last week. It had only been an accident… It wasn’t his fault he had mixed up anticlockwise turns with clockwise turns.

“Good,” replied Snape monotonously, eyeing Harry distrustfully before stalking off.

“Let’s see if you can catch up then, Potter,” Draco sighed grumpily, trudging up to the cabinets where the potion ingredients were stored.

Potions was usually a dull, irritating subject Harry had gotten by alright — usually goofing off with Ron was the only way to make it any fun— but he had noticed his pairing with Malfoy had always made him more alert and fascinated by the subject.

He watched as Malfoy stirred the pot slowly with a copper ladle in silence, his face screwed in concentration but lacking the severe scowl it had whenever he was around Harry. It was an abnormal sight for him, Draco’s soft features laced with his hardened silver gaze, waves of silky blond hair hanging off his head onto his face. Realising he didn’t want to be caught staring, Harry quickly busied himself with preparing the next ingredients.

As Malfoy sat back to watch the potion turn a sickly shade of pink, Harry had to cut the unfamiliar, silent tension — this felt different to the aura that had hung around them whenever they argued. It was delicate, wary. Harry wanted to tear it to shreds.

“Not as incompetent as you thought then, Malfoy,” Harry growled. Draco met his gaze with aloof amusement, making Harry ball his hands into fists.

“I’ll admit you did—” Draco paused, considering. “— _merely_ satisfactory, though I did say my expectations were _very low_.” He peered into the cauldron. “I can still see some of your poorly chopped rose thorns in there, clearly _someone_ still hasn’t learnt from their first-year ingredient preparation.” He continued before Harry could speak, “I wonder what this potion smells like to you. Probably that... mudblood, Granger.”

Harry was at his limit. He burst at Draco’s conceited, stupid, bastardly smirk.

“And I wonder what it smells like to you, Malfoy,” he practically spat at him, “Professor Snape? How about your father— oh, I’m sure he’d be thrilled to hear about this!”

Draco shifted and his smug features darkened considerably. “That’s not how it works, _Potter,_ ” he leered. He waved his hands exasperatedly. “Besides, how can _anyone_ figure out their potion’s smell when you’re clearly _stinking up this entire floor?_ ”

Harry braced himself to lunge forward and tackle him if it weren’t for Draco’s sudden, panicked look. He held back, suddenly very confused. Had Snape come up to them? He glanced around, not spotting Snape but catching Hermiome’s intense, startled gaze at him from the desk beside him.

He looked swiftly back at Draco only to see his features settled and once again cool, if not for the wild glint in his eye. He watched the Slytherin smooth down his robe as if he had been unruffled the entire time. A silence lapsed over them again, but Harry was too bewildered to care.

It was at this point Harry suddenly registered a more prominent fragrance in the room — something much like cedar and burnt apple, smoky pine with a tang of peppermint. With sharp detection Harry realised it was Draco — not so much his wizard cologne (or whatever it was), but the musk of his body. Occasionally, Harry could smell it in undertones as he passed the Slytherin day to day.

Hating the silence but more particularly detaching the focus of Malfoy’s oddly obvious smell, he commented as bitterly as possible, “I could say the same for you, _Malfoy_. Nothing here stinks as much as you. Had a long day, have you?”

Then in an instant Harry realised what had come out of his sound had sounded horribly wrong. Nothing worse could come out of noting Draco smelt more in a room full of love potions. Then it was his turn for his eyes to widen, as ironic as it was.

_Surely not. That couldn’t mean anything._

But there was no denying the smell. Even Malfoy echoed his reaction, nostrils flaring.

“I see you have finished your potion, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter.” Snape appeared beside them, peering into the cauldron — Harry had let out a sigh of release as he was cut off from Draco’s nonplussed expression.

“I’ll take note that this potion could have been prepared better. However, it is adequate at your standard,” he pivoted toward Draco. “Mr. Malfoy.”

Draco looked shaken and rather lost as he turned to the professor.

“I expected a bit better from you.”

He raised his voice so that it reverberated around the classroom. “You are all dismissed.”

Harry tried to stumble into the parting crowd but Snape wasn’t finished. “Potter. I noticed you were the one who prepared your ingredients. Perhaps _The Chosen One_ should take care to master more simple tasks before he goes off saving the world?”

There was a beat where Draco would have snickered, but it was filled in by Pansy Parkinson— Hermione’s partner —as she walked up to them.

Snape’s eyes twitched in response to Pansy, but his steel gaze remained trained on Harry. He tutted. “Has Mr. Potter lost his voice? Remember what I said. You are dismissed.”

Harry couldn’t get out of the dungeon fast enough, inhaling deep breaths of air as he released himself from the heavy fumes.

“Harry! There you are! ...Are you ok?”

Ron was waiting with Hermione, who was unusually silent.

“Fine,” Harry coughed, straightening. He joined them and walked off toward the Gryffindor towers. There was a collective, silent groan as Malfoy and Pansy whisked past them, snickering.

There was no denying now that the smell from Harry’s potion definitely smelt like Draco. As he stalked back to the towers, deep in thought, he realised two things.

One, Draco had also commented that the potion smelt like Harry, hadn’t he?

Two, he hadn’t thought once about Ginny or her request the entire school day.

-

“Ready?”

Harry flung the cloak over himself and Ginny, the flowy fabric cut short at their ankles. It had been long since Harry was a first-year, so now the cloak — which once draped loosely over Harry’s shoulders, trailing along the floor — barely managed to conceal them both.

They made their way to the astronomy tower in silence, intent on getting there without detection, though it was a little awkward. This whole situation was weird now that Harry had context, and for two very outspoken Gryffindors the silence was... uncomfortable, to say the least. As they shuffled closer to the tower, Ginny pressing in on him to keep hidden, Harry let his thoughts wander. He grimaced as his mind went straight to Malfoy.

What was wrong with him? His stomach fluttered as an image of the Slytherin appeared, but this time with that soft, loose expression of concentration he had back in the Potions class before… the love potion.

Harry recalled the alarm on Draco’s face when Harry had realised what he’d said earlier, which he now noticed, mirrored the panicked look Draco had when he’d said the same thing.

In short, they had both — more or less — said they both smelt each other from the potion’s fumes. Everyone knew that the scent of love potions was different for every individual, but designed to be the most appealing smell to them.

Harry nearly tripped as he turned a corridor. Attracted? To _Malfoy?_

The nagging, angered sensation in his gut came to life and seized his sides as though he was being bound with tight ribbon. Harry suddenly felt alarmed at the flare of adrenaline, even though it was a common feeling he had around Malfoy, but it had suddenly become unfamiliar. What he recognised as anger had drastically morphed into a newfound emotion, something much stronger and dangerous, but still something he hadn’t felt since… _Cho._

“Harry? Why have you stopped?”

Ginny reached upward to tent the cloak so that there was a bit more room, biting her lip nervously.

“We can go back, if you—”

“No, it’s fine,” Harry insisted, smiling. He did mean it. He’d do anything for a good friend. Whether or not Ginny did like him, he wasn’t going to bail on her. He forced himself to calm down and kept moving, a bit quicker this time. They were nearly there.

Perhaps it was something else. It needed to be.

Maybe Ginny didn’t like him. Immediately, something in the back of his mind gently reminded him of when Hermione had come up to him earlier after dinner, telling him to, “Be honest about it, Harry.”

Doubt surged into his thoughts. Would he give her a chance? Harry pushed down the rising doubt, but — with a certain Slytherin in mind — found with dread that he wished it wasn’t the case.

After a sound check for any disturbances, Harry flung the cloak off as they reached the stairs.

“I don’t think anyone’s here, come on.”

He reached out and grabbed Ginny's hand, forgetting Malfoy, and they grinned at each other as they made their way up the stairs.

It was dusk out, and the breezy, warm air of early autumn embraced them as they burst onto the landing. The sky was a fade of orange into deep, star speckled violet.

Harry scanned the area and his heart pummeled almost immediately.

Ginny let out a laugh of astonishment at the vivid sky and Draco whipped around at once. This was the last person Harry wanted to see, but _of course._

“ _Potter._ ”

Draco’s lip curled distastefully, and Harry forced down the rising anger— he couldn’t bring himself to name what it probably had always been. Ginny threw a hand to her mouth, the blood draining from her face.

“It’s after curfew,” Draco tutted. “I didn’t think _The Chosen One_ felt entitled enough to strut about the castle whenever he felt like it.”

Harry opened his mouth to protest but was silenced at the metallic pang of Draco’s tapping on his Prefect badge.

“I’m on duty, Potter.”

He smirked at Harry’s silence.

“I’m a prefect. Do you know what that is?” He cocked his head slightly and spotted Ginny. His eyes hardened.

“Brought your girlfriend with you, have you?” Draco’s face remained cool but the tone was accusatory. Harry could feel the Slytherin seething. “I have the power to give you both detention—”

“Wait!” Ginny pleaded. “Don’t punish Harry, I brought him here.” She turned to him. “I’m so sorry Harry, this is—”

“Draco!” A new voice in the distance called out. Harry thought this couldn’t get any worse.

“Oh my, what do we have here?” gasped Pansy mockingly as she glided up the stairs, her prefect’s badge catching in the light. “Harry Potter!” She noted Ginny with surprise. “And a little _Weasley_ girlfriend. What fun.”

“Harry, we should go.” Ginny looked guilty, and Harry wanted to hex both the Slytherins into the ground.

“Not before you say what you were going to say, Ginny. That’s not fair to you!”

“Say what? Do tell,” quipped Parkinson, eyes alight with interest. Harry bristled when she took place calmly next to Draco. And then kissed him on the cheek.

Anger sparked down his spine. He watched raptly as Draco’s nostrils flared and the two Slytherins shared a look. Harry couldn’t place what it meant and it enraged him. If he were next to Malfoy, he’d be ripping off his badge and—

“Harry…” It was Ginny. “I wanted to tell you, I...”

Harry’s eyes widened. Ginny Weasley was truly, fiercely courageous. He stiffened as she leaned closer.

“Ginny? What is it?”

“I love y—”

Suddenly there was a shriek as Ginny had been seized and shoved away from Harry. It was Draco, who had pushed her from Harry and taken her place, his face dangerously close with Harry’s. Draco’s silver eyes flickered up to meet his, a question burning in his eyes.

Before registering what was suddenly happening, it was him, _Harry_ , that had leaned in and kissed Draco. His eyes widened in horror at the impulse, his senses going overdrive, craving the touch. He felt Draco’s cool hand rest around his cheek, eyes fluttering shut and for once, relaxing. It was everything to Harry. He smiled and let himself get lost in the kiss, feeling alive.

It was right.

They broke apart.

“About time,” Draco muttered, quirking up an eyebrow. Harry felt the knot of anxiety and rage flood out of him all at once, feeling a great laugh between happiness and madness bubble in his chest. He grinned and slouched forward into his shoulder.

“Bit late, am I?” Harry murmured. Draco chuckled genuinely, the warm, gentle sound vibrating from the Slytherin’s chest to Harry’s cheek where he rested. “You’ve always been an oblivious git, but... no time worse than never, Harry.”

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone and thanks for reading until the end! this is my first ao3 post, so any feedback is very welcome! please let me know if you want a continuation of this or more drarry! ^o^


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